


From Yuuri, With Love

by pawns (driftingstar)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Assassination Plot(s), Crossdressing, Dark Humor, Hitman!Yuuri, M/M, Minor Character Death, Organized Crime, casual attitudes towards death, i don't want to be here!yuugo, yuugo has an overactive imagination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driftingstar/pseuds/pawns
Summary: Set in the same universe as bluemisfortune's "Neon Lights - Clear and Violet Flash" series.  Hitman AU!Yuuri shows up on Yuugo's doorstep to take him on a date that he will never forget.  No matter how much he wants to.  And he really, really wants to.Mentions of minor character death. Played for humor somehow.





	From Yuuri, With Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluemisfortune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemisfortune/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Clear And Violet Flash](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11393619) by [bluemisfortune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemisfortune/pseuds/bluemisfortune). 



> Background from "Clear and Violet Flash": Yuugo accidentally gets into debt with some shady people and Yuuri has kindly offered out of the goodness of his heart to settle it with absolutely no ulterior motives. Except that Yuugo has to date him. 
> 
> (If you enjoyed this, please go check bluemisfortune's series out. It's hilarious and adorable!)

It’s Sunday. A blessed day of rest and relaxation with no work, no awkward uniform, no stressful customers, no evil mafia bosses, and most importantly _no Yuuri_.

 

Or at least, that’s what it should have been.

 

“What are you doing here?” Yuugo demands, aghast when he swings open his front door only to see the bane of his existence leaning casually against his bike.  He just wanted to get groceries!  Was it too much to ask for just to have _one_ Yuuri-free day?  

 

“I’m picking you up,” Yuuri says with far too much cheer and tosses Yuugo’s own helmet at him.  For some reason, he’s dressed a lot more fancier than Yuugo has ever seen him in.  He squints. The silk shirt, neck ribbon, fancy waistcoat, and clearly expensive cologne all seem to be pointing towards a conclusion he probably isn’t going to like.  “We have a date, remember.”

 

Oh, crap. “No, we don’t!” Yuugo argues, feeling the blood drain from his face. He would have remembered if he promised to do something that stressful and masochistic.

 

Yuuri clicks his tongue at him and shakes his finger a bit too close to his face and Yuugo ends up going a little cross-eyed as he watches it warily. “You agreed to date me for the summer, remember? It’s hardly dating if we don’t go on any dates.”

 

“But I don’t want to go on any dates with you!”

 

“Well, that would be disappointing,” Yuuri sighs theatrically and presses a hand over to the place where his heart would have been if he actually had one.  “I suppose you’ll just have to slave away in that cute little uniform for the rest of your miserable little life. I _was_ going to be generous and give you a little advance on your loan, but if you’re not interested…?”

 

Yuugo reels back like he had been struck.  He mentally weighs the options.  On one hand, he would have to be an idiot to voluntarily spend time with a psychopathic cannibal who is probably already devising the most efficient way to kill him and strip him of all his organs. But on the other hand, are the shady people at Tron really any safer? But it’s _Yuuri_!

 

“Fine,” he says miserably after finally realizing that it’s futile to argue.  He’s got him cornered; Yuugo doubts he can run very far and Yuuri has craftily placed himself between him and his poor bike.  “Just _one_ date.  Just one!  Happy?!”

 

“Euphoric,” Yuuri says sweetly as Yuugo stomps over to reclaim his beloved bike, glaring suspiciously at him the entire time.

 

Wait a minute. Yuugo squints. “Wait, this is my house!  How the hell do you know where I live?!”

 

Yuuri only smiles and it’s the creepiest thing he has ever seen.  Yuugo shudders and jams his helmet over his head, his skin crawling as Yuuri’s arms wind around his waist. He grimly resigns himself to at least three months of sleepless nights and nightmares about Yuuri climbing through his bedroom window with chainsaws for hands.

 

It only occurs to him after tearing out of the garage and driving for about fifteen minutes that he has completely no idea where they are going. But by then, it’s far too embarrassing to ask.

 

“Mm, make a left here.”

 

Yuugo’s beloved bike screeches to a halt and he blinks up at the building in astonishment. It’s _ritzy_.  The ritziest hotel that Yuugo has only ever seen in photos; the kind that’s oozing opulence from every wall with things like chandeliers made of gold, diamond-studded toilets and other expensively useless things like modern art.

 

As he’s still too busy gawking, Yuuri casually disembarks from the bike and swings around over to him and presses a definitely unwanted kiss to his lips.  Yuugo sputters and yanks himself away, his cheeks lighting up like a lantern.  Yuuri looks entirely too satisfied and Yuugo dearly wishes that he could punch that look off his face and also live to see tomorrow.  He settles for not so subtly wiping his mouth on the back of his glove.

 

“What are we doing here?!” Yuugo hisses, looking around nervously because any minute now, some bouncer will be jumping out at them from behind some bush to throw them out because this place is obviously not somewhere that someone like him should be!  “You said we’re going on a date, not a _heist_!”

 

Yuuri’s answering giggle sounds all too loud. “What makes you think this is a heist?  You really do have an overactive imagination. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice for a change.”

 

There is so much wrong with everything coming out of Yuuri’s mouth that Yuugo doesn’t even know where to start. This entire situation is like fifty shades of messed up and he’s had it up to here with Yuuri’s games.  

 

“Why do you keep doing this?!  What do you _want_ from me?” he demands.

 

“Just your heart,” Yuuri purrs.

 

Yuugo’s breath catches in his throat. And his hands fly up to cover his chest.  “I fucking knew it!” he hisses. All this time he had been wasting his time worrying about his stupid KIDNEYS when the answer had been staring him in the face!  “Well, you’re not getting it!  I only have one of these!”

 

To his utter disappointment, Yuuri doesn’t look at all discouraged at his very clear rejection.  “Oh? What makes you think I won’t just steal it way? Or perhaps I already have.”  Then, as if just to prove a point, the evil bastard leans in to steal another kiss while his hands are occupied with guarding his ribcage.  Ignoring Yuugo’s outraged screams, Yuuri pulls back and hands him a beautifully wrapped parcel.

 

“What’s this?” Yuugo asks, staring at the lovely satin wrapping in a mixture of fear and trepidation.  It’s pink.  There’s even a bow around it.  Yuugo has a very, very bad feeling.  

 

“It’s a present,” Yuuri says with a secretive sort of smile that makes Yuugo’s bad feeling evolve into outright terror. “Why do you think there’s a bow on it?  Go on, open it.”

 

Now Yuugo knows for a fact that he absolutely wants nothing to do with it.  “I don’t want to,” he tells him, even though he knows full well that Yuuri doesn't give two shits about what he wants and no doubt has a witty quip in place to make him do whatever _Yuuri_ wants.

 

Yuuri doesn't disappoint. “Well, I suppose you could go inside with what you're wearing now, though they might mistake you for a trespasser and throw you in prison. Wouldn't that be fun?”

 

Yuugo’s heart sinks to somewhere around his knees. He'll never survive prison, not if it's filled with all the Yuuris and Vectors that even the corrupt government decided were too dangerous to be on the streets. “I'll open it,” he says sadly.  He rips the package apart with misdirected anger and something soft and fluttery falls onto his lap. With another sinking feeling, he shakes it out and as expected of an unoriginal, recycled plotline, it's a dress.  It's always a fucking dress.

 

“No,” Yuugo says. “No way!”  He’s going to put his foot down, show that cruel sadistic bastard penning his story that he's not going to be their bitch anymore!  He’ll take his chances with prison.  At least when Yuuri plunges that knife into his still beating heart, he will die with trousers on his legs.  

  


* * *

 

 

Yuugo shuffles miserably across the marble floors and tries his best not to trip over the hem of his white designer dress.  He doesn't have to look to know that Yuuri is radiating smugness from every pore. It was bad enough that Yuugo had to wear this hideous thing, but Yuuri had also taken the liberty to cover his face with makeup.  He feels violated; his lips are covered in gloss and his hair falls around his shoulders in soft curls.  How the hell had Yuuri hidden an entire makeup kit in his glove compartment without him noticing?

 

“Why are you doing this to me?” he hisses. The only thing Yuugo had wanted when he stepped out of his apartment for was to pick up a carton of milk for his afternoon cereal. Is this his punishment for coveting nutrient-deficient, sugary breakfast foods?

 

“Because,” Yuuri says, absently tucking a stray lock of Yuugo’s hair behind his ear.  “I needed a date on a short notice.”

 

“WHAT- mmpfh?!” Yuugo’s outraged scream is once again swallowed up by Yuuri’s hot, wet mouth and it's so distracting that he completely forgets that Yuuri is snogging him in the middle of the hotel lobby.  But even if Yuuri doesn’t have a heart, he apparently does have a set of lungs because he eventually pulls away for air, giving Yuugo a precious few seconds to catch his breath.

 

“You _needed_ a date?” Yuugo hisses, whirling on him angrily as he tries to ignore how his skirts swish around him. He had thought it was odd that the concierge at the charity ball seemed to think Yuuri’s last name was Zaizen. “This _IS_ a heist!”

 

“You wound me with your baseless accusations.” Yuuri doesn't even try to pretend he's not lying through his teeth, particularly with the way his eyes are scanning over the over-dressed crowd like a particularly venomous serpent picking out its next prey. “And it’s not a heist. It’s a hit.”

 

Yuugo pauses.

 

“Ahahaha,” he laughs with just a hint of hysteria.  “That’s weird. I thought I heard you say that you made me drive all the way here on a Sunday and forced me into this dress, just so you can sneak into some rich guy’s party to off someone.”

 

“Mm, that about sums it up,” Yuuri murmurs and Yuugo immediately and systematically regrets everything.  He sees his life flash before his eyes, cycling through every bad decision that has gotten him to this point; getting involved with bad guys, not running for the hills the moment he met Yuuri, waking up this morning and deciding he wanted cereal.

 

“You- You-” Yuugo struggles for words, torn between outrage and display and a whole slew of other horrified feelings.  He’s at a literal crime scene.  Someone in this crowd is going to die and he’s dating the asshole who is going to do it!  He doesn’t want to be an accomplice!  He did this to _avoid_ jail!

 

Oh, and killing people is bad too.

 

“You can’t just kill people for money!” he hisses, luckily remembering to lower his voice.  In the background, an orchestra starts to play an elegant waltz and suddenly there are couples twirling all around them.  In the confusion, Yuuri slips an arm around his waist and pulls him flush against his chest, effortlessly maneuvering him around into something that resembles dancing.

 

“Would you prefer I kill people _pro bono_?” Yuuri chuckles into his neck. “But then again, ‘if you’re good at something, never do it for free’. Isn’t that something people always say?”

 

“I prefer you don’t kill anyone at all!” Yuugo hisses. “And are you seriously quoting the _Joker_?!”

 

“But then how will I afford nice things for my adorable little lover? You’re not cheap, you know.  Wasn’t it your affinity for expensive parts what got you into this little ordeal in the first place?”  

 

“I just wanted to upgrade my bike!”

 

Yuuri only giggles as he gracefully avoids being stabbed by Yuugo’s vengeful stilettos by dragging him into a spin. “Maybe later,” he whispers, dipping him and pressing his lips to his shoulder which makes him squirm in what is definitely disgust. “Looks like my other date is here.”

 

“I thought _I_ was your date?” Yuugo blurts out without thinking but immediately blanches when he realizes what it sounds like.

 

He turns even paler as Yuuri laughs and pokes his cheek.  “No need to be jealous; it’s not personal, just work.  Now, won’t you be a dear and distract the bodyguard for me?”

“No! That’s not what I meant,” Yuugo cries out in alarm as Yuuri drags him off to the side.  “I’m not jealous, you jerk!  Wait, you want me to WHAT?!”  He has to cut himself off when Yuuri stops just as suddenly as he had started and he ends up stumbling into him.

 

“Hey, Garam!  It’s Garam, isn’t it?” Yuuri snags a fancy glass off a platter and swallows half of it before shambling over to where a tall, redheaded man was talking quietly to someone else.  

 

The redhead turns, a puzzled, yet polite smile on his face. “Excuse me? Have we met?”

 

“It’s me!” Yuuri insists with just a hint of a slur in his voice and he sounds so much like an airheaded moron with more money than sense that Yuugo has to do a double take to make sure that he hadn’t been infected by an alien brain parasite when he wasn’t looking. “We were at East Academy together, don’t you remember?”

 

“Ah, of course,” the man replies, his expression smoothing even though he obviously has no idea who Yuuri is.  “It’s good to see you again.”

 

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Yuuri complains with an irritated huff as he brushes his bangs from his face with a flick of his hand. His cheeks are so convincingly flushed that Yuugo only realizes he’s gaping at him when Yuuri discretely shuts it for him when he goes to caress his cheek.  “It’s _Zaizen_. Zaizen!”

 

Yuugo is certain that he’s crossed over into some weird alternate dimension as he watches Yuuri laugh and bluff his way into chatting with this poor sucker like they were old school buddies.

 

“Hey, doll,” Yuuri says to the bodyguard in a particularly sleazy way, “Mind keeping my girl company while we catch up?”

 

He leaves with an arm slung around the redhead’s shoulders and another glass in his hand, leaving Yuugo alone. He gulps.  The bodyguard turns out to be a tall, intimidating woman with short cropped hair and cold, penetrating glare that is giving Yuugo the wildest urge to confess all his sins while sobbing and begging for forgiveness on the ground.

 

This is the worst date ever.

 

Yuugo figures that there are two ways that this horrible, horrible night will go down.  Best case scenario, Yuuri’s going to put a bullet through that other guy’s brain and then they’ll both get arrested and Yuugo will spend the rest of his life dropping soap. Worst case scenario is that Yuuri is going to put a bullet through that guy’s brain and they _won’t_ get arrested and Yuuri will think it’s a good idea to start taking him on all his assignments.

 

“So,” he says, fidgeting with the lace on his stupid dress. “Uh.  Nice night. You come here often?” He only gets a withering stare in return and he drops his gaze down at his uncomfortable shoes. Exactly how is he supposed to distract the guard?  Is he supposed to flirt?  But It’s a _girl_.  Besides maybe Rin, the only conversations Yuugo has ever had with a girl is to ask her if she wanted skim milk in her tea and that’s hardly relevant experience in this situation.

 

Damnit. Why didn’t Yuuri actually _explain_ anything before flouncing off with some random guy?

 

The minutes tick by in an awkward silence which Yuugo fills with grabbing random delicacies off plates as the waiters and waitresses pass them by.  He has to admit they’re pretty tasty but he probably would be enjoying it a lot more if he wasn’t busy being terrified out of his mind.  And to be honest, he thinks he would rather be curled up at home with his cereal.  A movement in the corner of his eye makes him stiffen as he notices that the lady bodyguard is starting look just as uneasy as Yuugo feels.

 

“Wait, where are you going?” he asks as he struggles to keep pace with her as she starts to head towards the general direction where Yuuri and his would-be victim disappeared but she’s wearing combat boots and he has two-inch stilettos so he never stood a chance.

 

“I’m looking for Amon,” she says with just a hint of agitation.  She barely even glances at him, obviously not seeing Yuugo as a possible threat which is as relieving as it is insulting. “He’s been gone a while.”

 

“I’ll go with you!” Yuugo blurts out hastily as she disappears around the corner, even though the smart thing would be for him to sneak out the back and get on his bike and dip like his life depended on it. Actually, why IS he still here?  He could have escaped the moment Yuuri wandered off!  He can still make it; all he has to do is make up an excuse and get the dress off and drive home and then spend the rest of the night boarding up all his doors and windows and praying for a swift, painless death should Yuuri decide to come looking for him. Maybe if he’s extra lucky, Yuuri will decide to extract his precious organs posthumously.

 

The thought of his grim fate is so alarming that he forgets to watch where he’s going and naturally, his heel breaks.  Yuugo squawks like a half-boiled chicken as the cruel mistress known as gravity sends him flying.  He braces himself for impact but instead of falling painfully on his face and breaking his nose, an arm loops around his waist and drags him up against a warm, sturdy chest.

 

“Why, I’ve not even been gone fifteen minutes and you’re already falling for me?” a voice purrs into his ear and Yuugo doesn’t know whether to be relieved or angry or terrified or mortified

 

He settles for a Frankenstein mixture of all of the above.

 

“You left me!” That… probably shouldn’t be his first reaction.  So Yuugo tries again.  “And I’m not your GIRL!”  

 

Okay, that probably shouldn’t be his second reaction either, but he’s been having a really shitty night. Sue him. Actually, no, scratch that. He’s still in debt up to his eyeballs.  While he flounders around trying to think of an appropriate third reaction, Yuuri was sneakily readjusting his arms until Yuugo finds himself lifted up into the air.  Into a bridal carry.

 

“What the heck?! Let me down!” he insists, too infuriated to worry about the consequences of trying to put his elbow through Yuuri’s perpetually smug face.  

 

“Shh,” Yuuri hushes him with a finger pressed against his lips.  “Do you really want to make a scene right now?”  

 

Yuugo stills, coming to the realization that Yuuri had came back alone. “Did you… did you _do it_?” he demands in a horrified whisper.  But his appearance is immaculate; his clothes are completely bloodstain free and not even a single hair is out of place. He looks more like he had just come back from a casual stroll, rather than a casual murder.

 

Obviously noticing his confusion and alarm and finding it amusing, Yuuri lets out a soft, demented giggle as he brushes his lips against his cheek, “Were you worried?” he coos.  “How sweet. You’re still my favourite. You know I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

 

“Not what I was asking,” Yuugo groans but he decides he probably doesn’t want to know the answer to that either.  Why couldn’t Yuuri have just _not_ told him?  Ignorance is bliss, right?  His eyes dart around wildly as his heart thumps in his chest.  The party is still going on without anyone being the wiser, although he notices there is a distinct increase in guys in black suits and sunglasses milling around. He buries his face into Yuuri’s shoulder as he loses his will to face reality.  He can’t watch as his life falls to pieces around him. “I’m too young and cute to go to prison.”

 

Yuuri snickers and pets his hair like he would a puppy but Yuugo is too occupied with regretting his life choices to bite his fingers.  “That’s only if we get caught, dear. And I never get caught.” But Yuuri doesn’t seem very concerned with _not_ getting caught, considering how he’s _not_ running for the exits and is instead moving with absolutely no sense of urgency at all.

 

The bouncer at the door - a huge, hulking figure about twice their combined sizes- peers down at them from over their sunglasses. More than a little intimidated, Yuugo presses his face deeper into Yuuri’s shoulder like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand.  This is it, Yuugo thinks hopelessly. Time to face the music, to pay the piper, to get his dues-

 

“Have a good evening, sir, miss,” he says with a nod before opening the double doors for them.  Yuuri nods at him dismissively before striding out with a confident swagger like he owns the universe. And despite all of Yuugo’s excessive worrying, the guards don’t explode out of the woodworks with sniper rifles trained on their vulnerable bodies.

 

And they’re out. The night is quiet, safe for a gentle rustling as the evening breeze whispers through the leaves and the fabric of his dress. There’s no sirens, no yelling, no gunshots, no terrifying car chase. It’s actually kind of anticlimactic.

 

“That’s it?” he couldn’t help but blurt out once they were out of earshot from the hotel and safely on the back of his beloved bike. “But nothing happened!”  Yuugo hadn’t even bothered with changing, beyond slipping back into his boots so he can actually drive.  They’re taking a pit stop, miles away… back in Heartland Park, actually and Yuugo is getting an unnerving sense of deja vu.

 

Yuuri blinks at him before breaking into peals of hyena-like laughter.  “You sound so disappointed!” he crows, holding his stomach and Yuugo vindictively hopes he gets cramps. Maybe he’ll choke on his own laughter and his head will explode like in some low budget B-list movie remake of a beloved classic about a magic killer notebook.  

 

“No, I’m not!  I’m not a reckless thrill-seeking idiot with no sense of self-preservation!” Yuugo denies hotly, even though a small, stupid part of him _is_ disappointed because this means he had spent his entire evening scared out of his wits for no good reason!  But Yuugo forgets a very important thing; on top of being a psycho cannibalistic mass murderer with a refined sense of fashion, Yuuri can apparently read his mind.

 

He blinks slowly, before his lips curl into a devilish smile and Yuugo’s breath hitches at the look in those serpentine eyes. “I knew it.  You really are interesting, _Yuu-go_.”

 

Yuugo shakes his head rapidly, shoving Yuuri’s shoulders away before he can lean in to claim his lips again. “Nope,” he says, his voice just a bit too high.  “Definitely not interesting. I have never been interesting in my whole life.”  But judging from the way amusement on Yuuri’s face deepens, he probably doesn’t believe him.  

 

“Please,” Yuuri laughs. “I’ve seen you drive.”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Yuugo wonders, narrowing his eyes but the only forthcoming answer is another fit of laughter.  It’s not that funny, is it?

 

“Oh, Yuugo,” Yuuri says, his voice suddenly soft and breathy as he leans in to cup his cheek.  “I hope you never change.”  His hand is much warmer that Yuugo thought it would be; the heat from his palm transfers to his face, forming a red blush on his cheeks that is visible even under the faint streetlights. It’s suddenly harder to breathe like the air is filled with static. Something unspoken but electrifying as it passes between their eyes.  

 

Yuugo must have blacked out for a second; one moment, he’s gazing up into those hypnotic violet eyes and the next second their lips are crushed together again.  There’s a hand cupping the back of his hand and for some reason, his own fingers are tangled in Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri is kissing him; open-mouthed and wet and sloppy and Yuugo is kissing him back.

 

When they finally pull away, Yuugo is both breathless and equal parts horrified and some other feeling that he refuses to name. He must be going crazy. He’s definitely crazy to still be sitting here and just staring back into Yuuri’s pretty eyes under the moonlight instead of screaming like a banshee and driving off into the night.

 

The stress must have gotten to him. That’s the only explanation. He just needs to go home and take a long cold shower and everything will be back to normal in the morning, just in time for work. Like none of this ever happened.

 

“Did you really kill that guy?” he mutters skeptically.  Maybe this whole evening was an invention made by Yuuri just to mess with him. He wouldn’t put it past him.  “How come no one’s chasing us?”

 

Yuuri smiles and pulls him back against his chest and Yuugo lets him, too exhausted to resist resting his chin on his shoulder for a moment.  “Oh, that? I just used a slow-acting poison. It secretes through the skin so it’s completely undetectable.  Until it’s too late.”

 

“Huh.  Hey, wait- but you’ve been _touching_ me all night!”

 

“Mm. So I have.  It’s a good thing it’s slow-acting, isn’t it?”

 

“You.  YOU POISONED ME?!”

 

“Heehee. Relax, sweetie.  I already gave you the antidote earlier.”

 

“You did?!”

 

“When I kissed you, silly. Although just to be thorough, perhaps we should give you another dose?”

 

“NO THANKS!”


End file.
